


Trial of Vivec

by Hypatikar



Series: The Final Lessons of Vivec [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Genre: A teaser for Vivec/Nerevarine, Charismatic Nerevarine, Dunmer Nationalism, Dunmer Politics, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 12:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29028387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypatikar/pseuds/Hypatikar
Summary: One might imagine that in her heart was joy, but there was no joy for Ilsme, the Nerevarine and Protector of Morrowind, not even in this hour of justice. And verily, it was perceived as the hour of justice. In the chamber before her, a great council had commenced only two days before. For the people of Vvardenfell, and indeed all of Morrowind and surrounding provinces, Vivec's trial was to be a day of feasting and merriment. For them, justice against one of the three Great Deceivers was to be done. Finally, a great merging of both Imperial law and Dunmeri law suited the people, leading to their rejoice.Ilsme could not find it in her heart to rejoice.
Relationships: Nerevarine & Vivec (Elder Scrolls), Nerevarine/Vivec (Elder Scrolls)
Series: The Final Lessons of Vivec [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129571
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Trial of Vivec

The date was set, and had been set for some time now. All of Vvardenfell sat still, many residents filled with joy, and others brimming with righteous anger. Only one of these residents walked with their head down, in a state of perpetual sorrow and yearning. It had been months now since her defeat of Dagoth Voryn, months since she had journeyed to the fiery chasms of the Red Mountain, and in a state of veritable weakness, embraced him, and thusly, took his life afterward.

One might imagine that in her heart was joy, but there was no joy for Ilsme, the Nerevarine and Protector of Morrowind, not even in this hour of justice. And verily, it was perceived as _the_ hour of justice. In the chamber before her, a great council had commenced only two days before. For the people of Vvardenfell, and indeed all of Morrowind and surrounding provinces, Vivec's trial was to be a day of feasting and merriment. For them, justice against one of the three Great Deceivers was to be done. Finally, a great merging of both Imperial law and Dunmeri law suited the people, leading to their rejoice.

Ilsme could not find it in her heart to rejoice.

For it was Vehk, a living god who her past life did not know as a god at all. She mourned for Vehk the mer, and now, she mourned for Vivec the god. Further still, she knew that mourning was redundant, for she also knew that Vehk did not want pity, he did not particularly care for mercy either, nor was _he_ merciful. By all laws of all peoples of the land, he was a monster – a thief, a blasphemer, a conspirator, a _murderer_. Ilsme knew this was true, all of it was true. Although she was but a young Dunmer only recently emerging from the cusp of adolescence when she arrived in Vvardenfell years ago now, she understood that voice in the back of her head that belonged to Nerevar, and she was at peace with this part of her, that would always be a part. That voice, in its smooth cadence and archaic inflection, did not wish for Vehk the mer, or Vivec the god, to perish, even if it be in the name of justice.

Ilsme, though one _and_ two with this voice, found that she thought similarly. The predominant part of her being, the one who embraced ethics, stirred at the thought of Vehk's death or punishment. The other, who had for years, hated Vehk and cursed him, had shifted its priorities, and had developed a fondness for the sage and mystic whose lessons she'd read in her first months of being in Morrowind. _The Lessons of Vivec_ , a series of fables, who, like an onion, boasted layers upon layers, of parable and code, and upon finding the center of this onion, she found that there was no core at all. His lessons had taught her that through fantasy, one tears at the threads that connect the created and the yet-to-be-created, and an entirely different state of being comes to pass – a seed that does not exist in material, a seed that can only inhabit the mind and grow in those mystical soils.

On this day, Ilsme donned fine silks, and had brushed and styled her long, white hair, a color so reminiscent of her namesake, Nerevar. But she was not gold of skin like him, no, her skin was a pale gray, a silver uncommon to the commoners of the Dunmeri, though seen often in its upper echelons. The council did not expect her, and because they could not possibly expect her to appear at the trial of her perceived enemy, they were not prepared for the defense she had. Their Nerevarine, much to their ignorance, was raised in the Heartland of Cyrodiil, and thus was no mere acquaintance to Imperial law and duplicitous oration. Her craft and natural skill with people of all kinds had ensured her acceptance in this province, though she may have been an outlander, a Dunmer raised in Imperial courts.

When she entered the massive chamber, she was not deep enough yet to arrive at the hearing. In the entrance were Dunmer nobles, mingling with Imperial nobles who she surmised were there at request of the Emperor and the Great Houses. In their hands were both wine and sujamma, their heads close to each other with passing whispers between them, both in Dunmeris and Cyrodiilic. They did not notice the Nerevarine, as she passed between their bodies with ease.

"It is my hope that this trial is over quickly. Frankly, I do not believe it is in the interests of the Empire to be present at this God-King's hearing, it is the business of the Great Houses. Leave legislation to the Empire, and enactment to the Dunmer – it is much smoother that way. And besides, who among our kind even care about the happenings of this dreaded country? Profits have been decreasing ever since the defeat of Dagon Ur, or whatever his name is, and I have been telling members of the Elder Council for months now, that it is much more intelligent to start investing in Elsweyr and its jewel mining." Spoke an Imperial noble to another, who she vaguely recalled seeing once in Balmora, many, many months ago.

"Mark my word, if we do not see a surge of Dunmer isolationism in the coming years, then I am Clavicus Vile himself." Replied the other noble.

"And like Vile, will you cast a lot on this? I'm afraid I cannot see any other coming but increased dependency on the Empire, much to our dwindling coin."

The Nerevarine ignored this discussion, though agreed with a few bits. One primary conclusion to Voryn's defeat and Vivec's removal from power, was a surge of Dunmer isolationism, which was already beginning in every Great House except Hlaalu, and even members of Hlaalu were looking within their borders for profit. The sigil of the Sixth House and its presiding message lingered in the stagnant, harsh air of Morrowind, carrying with it a plea that the Dunmer cease their submission to the Empire, that they rely on themselves and not the 'mongrel dogs'.

When the guards standing on either side of the large doors to the hearing chamber asked her what right she had to enter, she answered, "By right of the Nerevarine, Hortator of the Great Houses, and Protector of Morrowind."

Their oaths won over their common sense, their nationalism and loyalty to the one who saved them earning her entry. When the giant doors opened, there was silence. She had not told anyone, not even Vehk, that she would be present at his hearing. It was not her intention to be a passive listener, on this day, she would speak in his defense, because… because it was ethical. And the part of her that was a selfish, lost child, feared the loss of the only one who truly knew her – not in the sense that he knew of her achievements, but in the sense that he knew her _before_ , and that he had known her before her reincarnation.

Looking at him now, sat in the center of the room, being gawked at by Imperials and Dunmer alike, she felt true regret at how she'd treated their last meeting. Bitterness, anger, and no small amount of loss. Looking at him now, he was no longer her murderer and hidden enemy, he was an old friend. No longer was his captivating face wreathed in blue flame, rather the flame was absent, and he had embraced the wholly gray form of his people. It was still Vivec, though, not much had changed save his coloring.

Their eyes met in that moment, which seemed to last the span of a celestial age. Red eyes met her own, and in them she was surprised to find shock and confusion, for his mask of perpetual serenity was gone, no longer required, because the lies were already told ages ago.

"Who are you, to enter this sacred chamber of law? Speak quickly, lady!" Boomed the voice of one of the accusers.

"I come on behalf of those whom I love, the people of Morrowind, who will not dare to show their faces on this fateful day. On behalf of the accused, now mortal, the former God-King whose name is Vehk and Vivec. My name is Ilsme Eranu, Hortator of the Great Houses, reincarnation of the first Hortator, Indoril Nerevar, Protector of Morrowind, whose voice has been silent as you make your judgments and accusations. Have I not more reason than most to speak on behalf of Vivec and Vehk?" She said, her voice loud and unshakable, so used to statecraft by now that it almost came naturally to her.

The gasps of the council came suddenly, their faces conflicted between obligation and determination, between guilt and shock at her audacity.

"First, I would ask the council what they charge the accused of." She spoke then, her voice calmer and even. She knew very well what Vivec was accused of, though she doubted they knew the full extent of his deception.

Council members whispered between themselves, and after a few moments, one stood and began to address her.

"Very well, Nerevarine. Your significance and selfless heroism shall be respected by the council and we will heed your defense of the accused. The accused is charged with blasphemy foremost, conspiracy, attempted mantling of Mephala, and murder in the highest degree. For all intents and purposes, especially in regard to impartiality, the council will refer to the accused as Vivec, and we expect the Nerevarine to do the same." She nodded her thanks to the councilor, and turned to face the entire room, poised tall and elegantly in her silks, the speech she had formed earlier bubbling in her throat and threatening to escape.

When she began speaking, she addressed not Vivec, but the council, knowing that Vivec's gaze would ensnare her as it had countless others. As it were, though, she could feel his eyes on her the entire time, and knew that there was curiosity in his gaze, but also indignation and betrayal. Betrayal, because he had not predicted that she would speak for him. She knew that Vehk fancied certainty as his brother, Seht, had, as she did as well. An unknown variable greatly distressed him, and he had no use in hiding this any longer.

"Aware am I of the charges placed on Vivec, and I am here to inform the council that there are hundreds, if not thousands of more charges, that could be placed. The depth of this mer's deception is a gaping abyss that I do not expect anyone but myself to even begin to comprehend. And even my understanding of it is shallow and less than excellent. 'Tis true, he is a liar, a thief, a murderer, a seditious parasite in the eyes of most mer and men and beast alike. But I ask you, my brethren, for I was raised both in the verdant, rolling valleys of Cyrodiil, and again later in the wastes and swamps of Vvardenfell. I ask you, 'what would you have done'? Plainly, I see a people betrayed and confused, and they have every right to be, but on this day, I must tell you the truth about the God-King that I knew, and the mer that I once knew. The depth of his morality, his sins, and his… ironic heroism."

Her eyes met Vivec's once again, and those glittering pools of crimson were narrowed at her, though not in hostility, but curiosity, and again, indignation at her unpredictable appearance. She did not waver, though, he no longer had the power to make her cower at the sight of him. Her equally crimson eyes passed over him in coolness, but not without the empathy and compassion she was renowned for. The council was comprised of those she knew, and those whom she assumed were from the mainland. Divayth Fyr was there, impassive and scrutinizing as ever, and Crassius Curio was there, as opulent and spirited as ever, and Caius Cosades also. Nearly every prominent House member she'd ever met was here today, and some others. This performance was for them, as well as Vivec, and for herself – her last act of mercy for Vivec. A mercy he did not deserve, nor want, but a mercy he would receive nonetheless.

"Once, as he is today, and as many of you are, Vivec was a mortal, and his name was Vehk. Doubtless, you've heard reiterations of this story from not only the accused, but other sources as well. Vehk was a cunning orphan, not so different from yours truly. This one had a destiny different from mine, however. It was Vehk's individual destiny to assume the anticipation of Mephala, to usher in an era of change, of prosperity, of opulence, for the Dunmer people. Like he has said, the needs of the Dunmer people shift rapidly. Their needs are not a slab of stone, but a rushing body of water, which must be allowed to flow through different rivers, yes? You may choose to ignore this if you wish, to ignore his benevolent deeds. Honor demands it heeded, however." She said, gesturing with her hands to convey the feelings occurring in her inner world, and to move the ones around her. "And as I have said, both Vehk the mer and Vivec the god, acted in the interest of not only love for his people, but for individual destiny. Shall we then place the dubious charge of ambition on him? Or further, shall we criminalize all those who pursue destiny?"

The Hlaalu councilor, Crassius, tilted his head at her words, considering them with the mercy and open mind that the eccentric author had always possessed. Divayth Fyr, as well, watched the exchange very closely, looking between her and Vivec, doubtlessly wondering what in the past few months had changed between the former God-King and his rival, the Nerevarine. Always, he had a knack for connecting the heretofore deceptively unconnected.

"Whether he murdered my predecessor is, even I admit, irrelevant. Do the Telvanni not murder their own brethren in the name of individual destiny and ambition? Have the practices of our people not always been rooted in a powerful sense of individualism and craftiness?" To mention the still unclear death of her predecessor was painful, but the voice ever-present in the back of her mind bade her to speak of it.

Councilors and onlookers gazed between themselves and her, their faces lined with indignation and embarrassment at the fatal flaw she'd caught in their accusation. Indeed, the Dunmer culture had no semblance of chivalry, lesser so for honor, whose definition to the Dunmer people was always speculative and changed according to an individual's will.

"I, the Nerevarine, propose that these deceptive actions are done, not out of spite, and not wholly out of selfishness, but _love_. Always, our people have had a love of greatness. The Telvanni, a love for the greatness that comes from _skill_. Hlaalu, a love for the greatness that comes from opulence and financial power. Dres, a love for the greatness that comes from dedication and preservation of these ancient traditions. Redoran, for the greatness that honor and oath-keeping brings them. And Indoril, my predecessor's liking, a love for mercy, and likewise, the greatness that _it_ brings. And rather controversially, Dagoth, for the depth of its love of greatness, have they sacrificed their existence, for the betterment of our kind. Their sacrifice, to them, self-serving, instead, served the entire Dunmer race – for we are reminded that there is _nothing_ our people will not do, to have a pedestal on the stage of our world's history."

"Always, our people have had customs contrary to the other races of Tamriel. Always, we have been rather singular in our peculiarity. The other races cannot even begin to fathom our ways, which they judge as callous, uncaring, even.. seditious. Have you, my people, forgotten who you are?"

Ilsme let herself take a few breaths to relax, to prepare herself and the others for what she was to say next. Her feet began their graceful pacing of the room, carrying her from Vivec, to the edges of the chamber, where the council members and onlookers watched, many of them anticipating her next words. Statecraft was not her original goal as someone with natural charm, but it seemed to be the wisest course to bring positive change.

"Sitting before you, is one, that is not unlike you." She said, her voice quieter now, "Like you, he wishes to bring himself glory, and this selfish wish benefits all of our kind. Whether he murdered.. Nerevar, is immaterial now. His deceptive anticipation should not be misconstrued for attempted mantling. The many here who I am aware are studied, will know that there _are_ differences between these two. When he and his brethren used the tools and defied Lady Azura, not one of them tried to mantle the Three. No, they succeeded at a different kind of blasphemy. This blasphemy entailed, in layman's terms, a replacement of the Three. Like I and Vivec, have said before, the needs of the Dunmer people are as of a rushing body of water. If these charges, which originate from Vivec's ambition, are indeed for ambition, should we also charge the Telvanni, the Hlaalu? The Emperor himself?" Gasps met her ears then, and one councilor spoke immediately.

"She speaks more boldly now. Is Vivec worth your reputation, Nerevarine?" The councilor asked, and though Ilsme knew her face, she could not recall her name.

"As it so happens, he is. As Protector of Morrowind, there are a great deal of subjects I must see to. Many of you have forgotten that it was _he_ , who first named me your Protector. _He_ , who had your interests in mind even on the precipice of losing his godhood due to my actions. And it is I, who stands as the sole reason he is here today. I, who compelled him to forsake his godhood, his innumerable deceptions. It is only fair that I make this sacrifice today, so that he may be forgiven tomorrow."

The chamber stood silent for a time, and during that time, she met the gaze of Divayth Fyr, who nodded almost imperceptibly in her direction. Divayth Fyr knew the tribunes almost as well as she did, as he had the honor of knowing them before they assumed godhood and discarded their mortality. She too had this honor, for the memories experienced from the eyes of Nerevar sat delicately in her mind now, organized as opposed to the erratic chaos they'd been before. If she hadn't known Vehk through the eyes of Nerevar, it is possible that she too would be an onlooker in the trial, passive save for the shock at Vivec's many crimes.

"Very well, Nerevarine. You may proceed in your defense." The councilor announced, her aged features stony save for the betrayal shining in her red eyes.

"Unlike many of you here today, I have had the privilege of knowing the accused personally. And as I have said before, his crimes are many, and I doubt any of you could understand the immeasurable moral complexities of the accused. His heroism far eclipses his wickedness, his ambition is born from the womb of love, and his deceitfulness has been a tool to aid our people when no one else could. Because of this, I ask pardon for the accused, and I gladly exchange my reputation with the people whom I have grown to love more than any, for this small mercy."

Time seemed to slow, and then quicken, and then slow for Ilsme, as she continued to willfully avoid the eye of Vivec which had been on her for the entire duration of her defense. In truth, it was not out of respect or lingering animosity that she avoided his eye, but fear. How many had gazed into that dazzling visage and found themselves unable to articulate a measured response? How many lovers had looked into those eyes and, after the act was done, realized that beauty was not his foremost weakness, but pride? And how many times had Nerevar looked into those same eyes and found not serenity, but an impulsiveness contradictory to his sagacity? How many times had she, in this body, experienced the exact same thing? When she expected sagely advice from Vivec after defeating Dagoth Ur, he'd dismissed her and revealed a part of himself no one had seen in millennia.

"The council will heed your words, Nerevarine, and we shall take into account the _depth_ of your knowledge of Vivec. Allow us a few minutes to discuss our next course. A ward shall be placed between the council seats and the accused and defender, as a token of your rank and heroism, you may speak with Vivec privately." A grandmaster said, and afterwards, a pale blue sheen rose from the fingertips of a Telvanni councilor, and marked the divide between the council and she and Vivec.

Their tones were muffled as they spoke, and she could not make out any words. Slowly, she paced over to Vivec, expecting him to speak first with the quiet, introverted arrogance she had begun to associate with him, but he didn't. And she found that it was she, instead who spoke first and directed the conversation. And she knew afterwards that it was only because Vivec was allowing her to. He was using a tactic that she never expected from the proud, former God-King, and that was asserting control by allowing the other party to think they were in control. Immediately, she was on guard.

"Vehk. I am grieved by our last meeting, which I take partial accountability for. I approached you with grief, anger, and no small amount of bitterness after Voryn passed. Take my defense as you will, a last mercy, a homage to our past lives, or simply, as an apology. I ask nothing of you, because I am now aware that you are unable to deliver any semblance of honesty – this I do not mock or deride you for, but finally, accept it as part of you, the part that is neither God-King nor aged mer, but is wholly of that sovereign province that is _Vehk_." She explained, explaining very much in very little due to time restraints, and this was very difficult for her, for Ilsme was a wordsmith and did not normally resort to blunt honesty, much like Vehk.

"Ilsme." He began to reply, giving her the courtesy of her first name, for the first time since she had come to Vvardenfell. "Though like my brother at rest, Seht, I am a mer of certainty, I am as of now uncertain if I, or anyone else, will accept your pardon. You will excuse me, I believe, if I relate to you that I am moved by your defense, but even I cannot revel in the circumstance where my chance to repent is stolen from my fingertips." He stared at her for a moment, and for that brief moment, she could sense in his features the smallest sign of gratitude and warmth, though it was fleeting, as all moments were with him.

Truly, she did not possess the arrogance necessary to challenge his dubious desire to repent, as he said. If he wanted to repent, he would've done so ages ago. Every time she got closer to understanding Vehk, yet another veil of secrecy was placed over his person. He reminded her of trying to misplace sand in the ocean, only to have the tide work to bring more sand to fill the empty spaces yet again.

"I ask, then, why have you not been speaking for yourself since I have arrived to speak on your behalf? Nothing but truth has escaped my lips, and I will not be made a fool of in front of my own people by you. Not this time. I can see clearly the self-preservation hidden behind your facade of confusion and impassiveness. You are fearful of something, but I have not the hubris to identify it. There is no need, or rather, no use, in lying to me this time, old friend." She replied patiently, trying to maintain the only moment of harmony they've ever had.

"Self-preservation. A rather poignant reminder of my current form. I underestimated your cleverness, your compassion, and your determination, dear Nerevarine. How inspiring a saint you will make, beside my name on the temple's stone, after they reclaim their wretched daedra. How… _poetic_ , that your anticipation and I began as equals, and now, together, we are equals yet again. I am sure even _Seht…_ did not divine this conclusion."

A wave of bright, hot anger came over her then at Vehk's stubborn denial to accept her forgiveness and his implication that he no longer cared for what the Dunmer did with their society. A part of her knew that this was all an act, one final act of defiance, one final act of spitting in the eyes of Azura and the gods that came before he and his tribunes. Her eyes hardened, though she doubted Vehk missed the minute change in expression. He latched onto weakness like a cliff racer circled its prey from above.

He insisted on maintaining some lies. Ilsme refused to let this sway her. She would defend him, even if it meant she had to leave Vvardenfell because it would undoubtedly ruin her reputation with the people she'd grown to nurture and love. To all others, it would look like it was merely compassion, and perhaps a moment of weakness. But either of them knew, it was because of competition. Neither wanted to relent, and either of them had a unique arsenal of sensitive information regarding the other. But Vivec was too stubborn and proud for that, and she was too ethical for that.

"Let it be known that I will accept the truth of your actions without holding them against you, Vehk. Such a privilege will never be given to you again, by anyone. If the council pardons you, and I am almost certain they will, we have words to discuss. For my part, I must apologize to you for any past animosity, and I expect you to allow me this one last request. Can you fulfill your end?"

Those eyes, once omniscient, now scrutinizing, softened only for a moment. His one weakness was oath-keeping, and perhaps it was the only remarkable weakness she'd noticed in him. If Vehk gave this oath, he _would_ keep it. Although what happened between now and on that day she came to speak with him, was still uncertain. Neither of them liked uncertainty, but Vehk, like always, still had the upper hand because he refused to relinquish control.

"You may rest on the knowledge that I will fulfill my part and receive you, Nerevarine. Though one cannot make promises in this position of uncertainty, I will try to speak plainly with you, for once. I am aware that it is a rare request from you, and I confess to a weakness for rarity, though this weakness pales in my propensity for duplicity and the weaving of fanciful tales." He told her, and her lips parted when she realized he was, for once, telling the truth and not attempting to fool or placate her with verbiage. She still had a weakness for verbiage in her own speech patterns, and the one before her did as well. Communication between them was like dancing around the other, trying to outwit each other with flowery metaphor.

"Thank you." She responded, and it was heartfelt, an olive branch so that Vehk would trust that she was not trying to wrestle power from him.

The trial commenced a few moments after her discussion with Vivec. Many pairs of eyes were focused on her, though quite a few were on Vehk. She attempted to meet every pair, but found herself staring longer at Divayth's than the others. Although fair in his dealings with her, his thoughts on the matter were as ambiguous as his respect for her was.

Cosades looked as though he didn't want to be there at all. For him, there were far more important things to do than state affairs. But for his part, there was a tugging of the corners of his mouth at her visual probing of him. There must have been over one-hundred people in the chamber the trial was being held in, and there were many servants recording the events with their quills and imported rolls of parchment. For the countless time, both she and the one she defended would have yet another chapter in the scrap heap of history. One rather glaring commonality between them was their love of fame with the people.

The councilors ordered the servants to apply ink to their quills once again, leading Ilsme to believe that a decision, and an important one at that, had been reached. She wet her lips in anticipation for the announcement to be made, the announcement that would shake Morrowind like an earthquake, whose tremors would be felt across the entirety of Tamriel. Indeed, one could only hope those tremors did not waken the ocean and beckon forth a tidal wave. If the wave came, she was not sure what form it would take.

"The Council has heeded your wisdom, Nerevarine, and applauds your many mercies not only to us, but to those whom we have perhaps judged too quickly. Your decision to defend the pretender, Vivec, was unprecedented, but with your help, we have made a crucial decision. Once again, you have reminded us of our ancient traditions so that we will not lightly forget the sanctity of the Dunmer who came before us." There was a pause in the councilor's speech, and for once, Vivec moved his gaze to the speaker and off of her back.

Inconveniently, the faces of the lives she'd taken from the Sixth House met her. A tide of images washed over her – Sotha Sil's charred body and her wailing at her bad timing, Almalexia's beauty turning to ash, and how she embraced Voryn to her bosom, and slew him in the same breath. Vivec was all that was left of that era, and surely, his survival meant something. It was significant somehow, and after this proceeding, she would discover the mysterious source of this significance.

The head of House Indoril rose then, continuing the speech that the councilor had began.

"We judge the wisest course to be this. Hereby, the former demigod Vivec's shall be relegated to the status of sainthood for his historical acts of heroism and dedication to the preservation of Dunmer culture, and shall be exiled henceforth from all land and holdings of Morrowind."

 _Baar Dau_. Was the only thing she could think of, and when she met Vivec's eye, she knew he was thinking the same thing. What would be done about the reminder of Vivec's many deceptions, and how could an impact possibly be stopped if the only one who could control it was not given leave to do something about it?

Normally, Ilsme would not deign to speak without first preparing her words, but in this moment of intense concern for her people dwelling in Vvardenfell, she could not shake the impulse to say her piece. Indeed, how did the Great Houses plan on commencing with this? Furthermore, had they not considered Baar Dau in their decision?

"And what will be done about Baar Dau, sera?" The quickening of her heartbeat and the sweat forming on her brow did not pass unnoticed to Vivec, who was now staring at her intently, likely wondering along the same strand of thought as she.

"Indeed. How will the Council prevent its impact without my guidance?" Spoke Vivec, who now paced the floor until he stood next to her.

The Council was quick to answer their questions, though neither of them believed the validity of their claims, "The Council has already decided that we will use our magic to keep it afloat until a long-term solution can be found. Furthermore, neither Vivec the God nor Vehk the mortal is privy to the sensitive details that will commence after their trial."

These words earned the ire of Vehk, whose eyes glowed with malice within seconds of hearing. Smug contempt had him sneering at those whom, only two years prior, had worshiped him as the enigmatic sage he liked to appear as. Contempt, she would add, for good reason. Despite his many deceptions, she was speaking the truth when she claimed that his love for the Dunmer people endured, and his contempt at the threat of their annihilation only aided her case that he was not the villain – but a hero whose complex 'selfish selflessness' proved to be incalculable.

The former God scoffed, a gesture foreign on his perpetually calculating countenance. A smirk threatened one of the corners of his supple lips, as he stared down the councilor who robbed him of his chance to make things right. A hint of worry tugged at the surface of her mind, for she knew intimately many, though not all, of the inner workings of Vehk's mind. The cunning orphan that Nerevar knew was an opportunist, and nothing pleased him more than using a disadvantage to his advantage. He would take their denial of his aid as an opportunity not only to defy those who turned on him, but to show that he alone cared most for his people, and turn it into yet another of his many lessons – the needs of the Dunmer must always change.

"So be it." Was all he said, and the next moment, he was gone.

The crowd of onlookers and councilors gasped in shock at the audacity of the one they once loved. Whispers hung in the room, some low though many loud enough that she could hear.

" _That villainous traitor, we should not have listened to the Nerevarine."_

" _She was once an outlander, after all. What did you expect?"_

" _Where has he gone?"_

But Ilsme knew exactly where he had gone, and she knew this was a test of her poetic inclinations. He waited for her at the place where it had all began, and though she was miffed that Vivec had managed to trick the people yet again, a small, secretive smile bloomed on her face like the flowers of the Heartland in spring. While the Council was erupting into arguments, some defending her and others still attacking her and Vivec, she walked away from the scene, and though her heart was heavy with grief for what was to come for the people of Vvardenfell, she gave her chest leave to laugh, for it was their way, after all – her people preferred to learn every lesson the hard way. Nerevar's voice had not needed to tell her that.


End file.
